#they even phrased it the same way holy shit

[elucubrare]

What are your biggest turn-offs when reading/watching historical fiction or retellings of myths?

this is really complicated - i can put it in two boxes, both of which are packed very full.

disconnection from the material reality of the past

when characters display a very specifically modern mindset (about social issues especially, but other stuff too)

(I also get bothered by some kinds of modern language - I don't mind it when, idk, an author uses "sensible" with the modern connotation of "practical" and not the 18th century "emotional" or "empathetic", but "yeah" or "okay," or even, as i found out when someone used it in medieval fantasy, "holy shit" will get on my nerves.)

there are modern things where (made up example!) a character who's supposed to be a cook will talk about making caprese salad for a fancy restaurant in December, and someone snarking on the book will say "yeah, right, they should know better than to make something that depends on a fresh summer vegetable!" and even with greenhouses, that's pretty fair. and that's even more extreme in the past. it's 1650 in Verona, it's December, you cannot obtain fresh tomatoes. i don't think this means that people in the past were, necessarily, more emotionally or spiritually in tune with the cycle of the year, or the labor it took to get clothes, or furniture, or any other material item, and of course wealth can insulate people from some of that difficulty, but it does mean that the seasons had more direct impact on people's lives. It's possible to, for example, buy clothes ready-made, but for anything fancy, it's more likely that it'll be made to fit if it's new, or altered extensively and painstakingly if it's not. that means that tearing or staining a fancy dress isn't just an issue of looking bad - you can't just replace it, and you probably won't throw it out - you figure out how to reuse it. those concerns of access to material goods are just a lot closer to the surface of the world than they often are now.

my objections to modern attitudes about the world are not that people in the past 100% accepted the views of their contemporaries - there were always people who didn't, and it makes sense that a protagonist would be one of them. but people wouldn't phrase those objections in the same way that modern people would - say your main character doesn't want a woman accused of being a witch burned. "God's power is such that the Devil cannot give this woman the ability to sour milk" is most likely going to be more persuasive to the crowd than "witches aren't real." and sometimes that's rough - it's not super fun to read about a Roman with Roman attitudes about provincial wars, or slavery in the city, but I put something down because a Roman character said (in internal dialogue) that he was disgusted to see that a man had been tortured because "Romans simply didn't do that." Historical Romans did do that, routinely - a slave could not testify in a law court unless they had been tortured. Even with distasteful things like that, I'd much rather it just be glossed over than to have them say the "correct" modern thing. It just makes it feel too much like the theme park version of the culture.

Both of these are because of specific things I come to historical fiction for - I want that sense of alienation, the gulf of experience. I hate that most historical fiction (and fantasy set in semi-recognizable periods) characters don't really care about Honor, except as a joke, because I love when characters organize their lives around arcane rules and systems that cause tiny things to escalate into blood feud. I just think they're neat! I like it when people's worldviews are shaped by their lack of scientific certainty about what causes crops to fail! If I wanted to read about people who thought and acted like me, and had lives that were mostly similar to mine, only cooler, I'd just read contemporary fiction.

#my thoughts on...

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Montresor is the Bad Ending of White Raven

So Montresor has a religious trauma. And from what little we know of the flashback to his death, the man was apparently a corrupt preacher.

What that tells me about his life made me crack my knuckles, because holy shit, this guy is an even better villain than I expected. And not for the reasons I thought at first.

Montresor's possible backstory

A fun fact: "unholy men" used to be called "sons of Belial". Same as Monty's Spectre type, so there's the initial connection, but with what we saw in chapter 87, this phrase from his mother resonates quite a bit:

Montresor was most likely a bastard (literally), and if he was raised in a religious community, that immediately made him and his mother outcasts. Possibly his mother hated him for "ruining her life". Whether this is true or not, the implication is that he grew up a victim of a system that decided he was sucked by the devil from birth.

In this light, Montresor's attitude towards the world is actually a logical consequence: he has decided that abuse is the only way to relate, and you can either be the victim or the victimizer. Of course, he is now the victimizer.

But he decided that because life taught him two lessons that were important enough to make him the person he is now.

"I know this game better than anybody"

We know from the clothes and hat in his flashback, and the cross around his neck, that Montresor was a preacher. And I would venture to say an excellent one: he has heard all his life that he is a demon, he knows better than anyone what terror hell produces in people, so he knows exactly what to say (or not say) to manipulate others through that fear.

Montresor, like Annabel, is someone who exploits his own traumas.

Annabel has been almost conditioned to behave like the perfect high-society lady, and that includes going to impressive extremes if it means getting something in return. She has engineered her way through life by identifying the currency of the people around her and knowing exactly what to give them so that they will, in her words "kissing her rings".

Loyalty gained through fear vs. loyalty gained through pretended sympathy.

Same goal.

If the world has made them that way, both Annabel and Montresor will use every last footnote of knowledge gained through trauma to get what they want.

But then there's something else they have in common: this deep knowledge of the rules of the game has also made them both know that the odds are too stacked against them to ever win. In the past, we've seen Annabel throw in the towel on her arranged marriage, but Montresor took a different path, much more along the lines of…

"So I'm not afraid to cheat."

Montresor decided that if people wanted a demon. He would give them one. The worst demon of all, because this one knows the rules: he knows how to play the game, he knows how to cheat and get away with it. We don't know the extent of his atrocities, but given what happened in the flashback and the fact that his idea of a sleepover is stuffing someone behind a wall to slowly suffocate, this guy must have a long rap sheet.

So long, in fact, that he was tied to the tracks of a train to be torn to shreds without even a trial.

Because if the rules are just there to screw you, then screw them: the only option left is to cheat.

Which is exactly what Lenore did when she burned down her house and pretended to be a man to go after Annabel. Lenore jeopardized everything Annabel said was important to her.

And she got away with it. At least until they were both killed (or, if those of us with our chips on Annabel's childhood friend, they may have both died without anyone knowing).

Now, in Nevermore, Lenore is still doing that, as we can see in her reluctance to kill or destroy Montresor: she refuses to play the game, refuses to follow the rules.

She will look for ways to cheat here, as she did before (something Annabel actually expects her to do). The woman is too stubborn to bend, and so far she seems to have the wind at her back (the question is, for how long?).

The bad ending

These elements make Montresor a complete exhibition of the ultimate consequences of taking Annabel and Lenore's attitudes to the extreme: a person who instrumentalizes her own traumas to unravel and try to inflict them on others, and who is not afraid to cheat for her own benefit if it means getting what she wants.

The only thing that separates Annabel and Lenore from Montresor is that they both still use these attitudes in the name of other people: Annabel for Lenore herself, and Lenore for the people she cares about. That both of them (still) seem to have their hearts in the right place.

But if Annabel continues to use her vast knowledge of this twisted game to work her way through people without caring, and Lenore still believes she's above all rules, here's Montresor to show them (and us) what's waiting for them at the end of the road.

#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #lenore nevermore #lenore vandernacht #annabel lee whitlock #montresor nevermore #By the way #I don't want this to be read as me defending Montresor #Just because I believe that his attitudes follow a logic does not make them good or excusable #But that's how good antagonists are written #as a reflection of protagonists #And perhaps we should take whatever happens to him as a dark omen for Annabel and Lenore #And speaking of antagonizing Morella where the fuck are you? Your spectre is the opposite of this guy's

[gravitywonagain]

Inquiring Minds

holy shit, i finished a thing. well, a draft of a thing, but still counts!

based on this post about wwx being just dead enough be susceptible to the compulsion of inquiry

--

It was, in retrospect, the stupidest possible way to be found out. Wei Wuxian will readily admit that. Unfortunately, the level of stupidity was not a determining factor for the level of reality — as was the case for so much of Wei Wuxian’s life.

It all happened because one of the two dozen Jin disciples who bothered to show up to the war got a little drunk and a lot prideful and ended up starting a fight he couldn’t finish. Or, that was the going theory, anyway. The Jin leadership — such as it was — wanted an investigation done. As if they had nothing better to do. As if there weren’t reasons to be conserving spiritual power and not wasting it playing Inquiry for a guy who had decided to pick a fight — hopefully, hopefully it was a fight — with a Nie disciple who, granted, did not have the startling musculature of some of her shixiongs, but was still a fucking Nie disciple! 

This guy was not worth their time. This guy was not worth Lan Zhan’s time. Or his attention, or his spiritual power, or the stress it would put on his guqin strings— okay, maybe Wei Wuxian should have taken a moment to purge some of his resentment before walking into the tent. 

But he didn’t. This is important. 

Because then Lan Zhan began to play. 

And there was this strange… tugging sensation in the pit of Wei Wuxian’s gut, right where his golden core was supposed to be, pulling him toward Lan Zhan, or toward the empty space in front of Lan Zhan. 

Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have ignored it. He gets that now. He does. But he always wanted to be near Lan Zhan, and his body had been doing all kinds of weird shit since he’d had his core cut out, and who was to say this wasn’t just another weird side effect. 

Well. It was. A weird side effect. After a fashion. 

But that’s not the point! 

He should have noticed then. He should have left then. But he didn’t. 

The melody changed and the tugging sensation stopped. Which was great! 

Until something else started. It felt like a kind of drunkenness, light and hazy in his head, loose around his tongue. Three or four bowls in. 

He shook himself to dislodge it, but the motion only drew a sharp glare from Jiang Cheng. 

The tent was full of spectators. At least two representatives from each major clan were present, plus several “close friends” of the victim -- like four of the fifteen total Jin disciples -- who probably just wanted something else to do outside of eat, sleep, and fight. Wei Wuxian couldn’t blame them, exactly, war was remarkably boring most of the time, but it was getting awfully stuffy in there. 

Lan Zhan changed the melody again, something almost lexical about it. Wei Wuxian could almost hear the question being asked, even before Zewu Jun’s voice chimed in, translating for anyone who didn’t know the qin language — which was pretty much everyone else in the tent besides the Twin Jades — “What is your name?” 

Wei Wuxian caught his own response between his lips, pressing them together tightly, as the guqin sounded three distinct notes which Zewu Jun reported as Jin Zixin. 

So, good. It was the right guy. That was great. Nothing weird at all. 

He should have left then. He didn’t. 

Lan Zhan played again, and again Wei Wuxian thought he understood the phrase, the question, even before Zewu Jun said for the tent, “How did you die?”

Wei Wuxian felt the answer fly to the tip of his tongue and bit his teeth around it, through it. His cheek bled with the force of keeping quiet. 

It was weird. So weird. But maybe, Wei Wuxian justified to himself, maybe it was just an effect of holding a secret inside for so long and having someone actually ask the question out loud. Maybe, it was just the same automatic reaction of answering with your name when someone asked for it. Maybe he was just too fucking tired, and the resentment under his skin just wanted something to laugh at, something to entertain itself with. Like the five of ten Jins standing in the back of the tent. War was boring, okay?

The notes from Lan Zhan’s guqin hung in the air, resonant and waiting. The moment seemed to stretch out too long. It dragged and Wei Wuxian gradually felt the words stop fighting him to escape. 

But the Jin ghost didn’t answer either. 

When Lan Zhan played the same phrase over — “How did you die?” echoed on Zewu Jun’s tongue — the compulsion was much stronger. This time it was like Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Zhan’s spiritual power pouring through him; the strongest of wines, several jars of it. 

He couldn’t fight it. 

His mouth opened. 

I fell. I fell. I fell. 

“I fell.”

All eyes in the tent turned to him. 

Jiang Cheng’s elbow caught him in the ribs. He didn’t even bother to glare. He said, “Not you, Idiot.” 

The qin sounded and everybody looked back to Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun, waiting to hear the Jin disciple’s answer. 

Zewu Jun hesitated for the barest of moments, stuttering into the start of his translation before finding the confidence of his voice once more, recounting whatever it was that the ghost had strummed out. 

Wei Wuxian didn’t hear a word he said. He was, instead, pierced on two sides. 

On one: Jiang Cheng muttered to himself, “Wait,” and then his eyes went wide as he looked back at Wei Wuxian. 

On the other: Lan Zhan’s fingers froze above the strings of his guqin and he turned to stare over his shoulder at Wei Wuxian with something like horrified understanding dawning within his gaze. 

Wei Wuxian finally realized he should fucking leave. Immediately. 

He wanted to run. He knew better. Knew what that would look like. 

Instead, he was going to simply walk out of this tent as he had walked out of so many already during this campaign. Gravel crunched under his heel as he turned. 

But his brother knew him too well. Jiang Cheng’s hand clamped tight around Wei Wuxian’s bicep, his grip unyielding. With his golden core, Wei Wuxian might have been able to break it. But the real bitch of it was that it was his golden core that was holding him in place. 

Jiang Cheng tensed as if readying for a fight, but Wei Wuxian already knew how that fight would end. So he let himself be restrained. 

He turned back to face the Inquiry. 

Lan Zhan was still staring at him when Zewu Jun finished speaking. He was still so stuck in place that his brother had to prompt him into finishing the ritual. Which he did, with all the grace and skill expected of him. He really was just so beautiful to watch. 

All the while, Wei Wuxian listened to the music and bit through his tongue to keep it silent. The questions continued to drag at him -- “Do you know who killed you?” Wen Chao. “Do you have any last requests?” To leave this fucking tent. -- though the pressure to answer eased significantly as the Jin ghost became less stubborn about it. Wei Wuxian settled for reciting the answers to them in his head until they no longer felt pressed against the thin seam of his mouth. 

It took approximately sixteen-hundred years. 

All seven Jin disciples supporting the war effort left the tent after the ghost had recounted his final moments. The attempted sexual assault was not unexpected, judging by their faces, but still disappointing to hear about. Clearly not the entertainment they were hoping for. Luckily for Wei Wuxian, they were apparently too wrapped up in their Jin nonsense to realize new entertainment was fidgeting in the corner and trying not to sever the tip of his tongue completely. 

The Nie, represented by Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, left shortly after the ritual concluded. If Nie Mingjue had to tug his brother away, Wei Wuxian was too busy keeping his mouth shut to comment on it. 

And then there were just the four of them. Plus the corpse. But they were like six months into a war, so the corpse didn’t actually seem to bother any of them. It hadn’t even started to smell yet. It was still pretty intact, too, and now that it was verifiably a criminal, Wei Wuxian wondered idly if the Jin would let him use it in their next battle. Probably not. 

His idle wondering ceased abruptly as his brother’s fingers bit deeper into the meat of his arm. 

“Wei Wuxian,” he said, all of his surely filial worry for his gege boiling over into a spitting, incandescent fury. He never had to say he loved his brother, Wei Wuxian could always tell. It was the teeth gnashing that gave him away. “What the fuck do you mean you fell?” 

Right. 

Wei Wuxian played it as cool as he could with a definitely-not-bleeding tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jiang Cheng.” He shrugged, but his arm didn’t move very far. 

“You answered Inquiry,” said Lan Zhan. Succinct as ever. 

“No!” Wei Wuxian said, maybe a little too loud, but not at all childishly. 

Zewu Jun narrowed his eyes and pulled out his xiao. Wei Wuxian tried not to flinch about it, he did. But Zewu Jun only played a short, non-Inquiry melody, and a shimmering, blue barrier manifested around the interior of the tent. 

“No,” Wei Wuxian said again, this time at a totally normal volume. “I was just… messing around. You know how I do that, Lan Zhan. Always a rule breaker.” He grinned, desperately trying to play it all off. Realizing faster and faster how very badly this was going for him. 

Lan Zhan surprised him, then, saying, “Not when it matters.” 

“What?”

“Wei Ying doesn’t break rules when they matter.” 

Wei Wuxian didn’t know where the fuck that was coming from. But he couldn’t say he hated it. 

Except that he did, because it was going to be a problem for this whole I’m just a silly rascal defense he was setting up. 

Jiang Cheng still hadn’t let go of his arm. His fingernails were starting to split the fabric of his sleeve. And worse, his eyebrows were scrunched together in the way they do when he’s thinking through all the angles of a problem. 

Zewu Jun still had his xiao in hand, and he was looking at Wei Wuxian like he was deciding whether to perform an exorcism or an execution. 

But Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan hadn’t moved from his seat on the mat. He had turned his body so that he was facing Wei Wuxian, giving him his full attention, and was looking up at him with… pain in his eyes. Shining, wet pain. 

“You died?” he asked. “Are you dead?”

“I don’t…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. He couldn’t find the words. 

He didn’t know. Which was, possibly, not the best sign. 

“I can’t be dead,” he said, looking over at Zewu Jun, Jiang Cheng, then back to Lan Zhan. “Can I?”

Zewu Jun, still wary, said, “You responded to the compulsion in Inquiry. Inquiry is a song that speaks to and compels answers from the dead. It does not generally work on the living.” 

“Well--” Wei Wuxian started, defensive and scared. But again, he didn’t really know where to go with that. 

“Where were you, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng asked him. “Why didn’t you meet me at the bottom of the hill?” 

Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun shared a look. They didn’t seem to know what Jiang Cheng was talking about. But Wei Wuxian really, really, didn’t want to get into that whole mess. If anyone was going to see right through him and his flimsy tale about suddenly remembering the location of Baoshan Sanren’s mountain, it would be Lan Zhan. Actually, Zewu Jun would probably figure it out, too. And then maybe even Jiang Cheng. Now that he wasn’t all broken and desperate and gullible. 

Fuck. With the way Jiang Cheng was looking at Wei Wuxian, the way his hand released some of the pressure around his arm, he might already have. 

Wei Wuxian laughed, hoping it came off more smoothly than it felt in his chest. “Ah, Jiang Cheng.” He brought his own hand up to lay over his brother’s. “What if I told you--”

“No,” Jiang Cheng cut him off. “No more bullshit. Where were you?”

The mirth, false as it was, drained out of Wei Wuxian as he saw the pain building behind his brother’s eyes. 

There was movement in his periphery and then Lan Zhan was standing on his other side. His fingers wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s other arm with a much gentler grip than Jiang Cheng’s. Something imploring about the touch. Like he was seeking confirmation to a theory, or maybe proving to himself that Wei Wuxian was actually there. 

“I…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. 

Zewu Jun’s gaze was hard as steel, but aimed, it seemed, at Lan Zhan’s hand, rather than at Wei Wuxian in general. 

“There was a rumor,” he said in slow, even words, “that Wen Chao had thrown you into the Burial Mounds.” He waited a moment after he finished speaking, as if trying to reconcile the words himself, before he looked up to meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes. 

Of course, Wei Wuxian didn’t want to meet Zewu Jun’s eyes. He didn’t want to meet any of their eyes. He wanted very much to be out of this tent and away from knowing gazes altogether. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite figured out how to teleport using resentful energy yet. So in the tent he remained. 

He looked down at his feet. His boots were crusted with dirt and blood and other bodily fluids. War really was super gross, in addition to being largely boring. 

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, still looking down. “Everyone knows that nothing leaves the Burial Mounds.” 

Lan Zhan’s hand tightened around Wei Wuxian’s arm. Jiang Cheng’s loosened, but didn’t let go. 

“Yeah,” said Jiang Cheng, like an accusation, “it would be impossible.” 

Wei Wuxian still didn’t look up from his feet which meant that he missed whatever silent conversation happened between Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan that had both of them tightening their grips on his arms just before fingers were pressed to the pulse points of his wrists. He struggled, flailing as much as he could, but against Lan Zhan’s golden core and his own, he stood no chance. He could barely budge them. 

He screamed but the sound only reverberated inside the tent. 

The only thing he could think to do was to call up the dead. The dead man still lying in front of them. The Jin. Rapist. Criminal. He could use that wicked corpse to fight off the people holding him down, taking his secrets. Smoke curled out of his sleeves and he--

He stopped himself. 

It was over anyway. 

Even if they couldn’t read his spiritual energy, or lack thereof, his fighting them was confirmation enough. 

He went limp in their grasp. His knees buckled. 

It really was the stupidest possible way to be found out. 

“Where is it?” asked Jiang Cheng. But it was clear from his voice that he already knew the answer. 

Lan Zhan was silent. 

Zewu Jun looked to his brother for an answer, not understanding what they had just discovered. 

“His golden core,” said Lan Zhan. “It’s gone.” 

“Wen Zhuliu?” Zewu Jun asked. 

But Jiang Cheng made a sound that was somehow both a laugh and a sob. 

Wei Wuxian regained control of his arms. He sprawled himself out on the tent floor, exhausted from his struggle. He laughed, too. “After a fashion.” 

Jiang Cheng fell to the ground next to him, hands cradling the place where Wei Wuxian’s core now spun. “What the fuck?” he said, quietly, to no one in particular. Then, loudly, to Wei Wuxian in particular, “What the fuck!” 

His cheeks were wet. Jiang Cheng’s, his own. He looked over to confirm, and yeah, Lan Zhan’s too. Zewu Jun had nothing to cry over, except maybe confusion, but he was too cool for that, so he just stood in the middle of the tent, shocked, presumably, as his brother, another sect leader, and a demonic cultivator broke down around him. 

Wei Wuxian stared up at the tented canvas ceiling and cursed himself for not leaving the tent when he first noticed something wrong. 

“Jiang Cheng,” he started, but Jiang Cheng cut him off with a wet yell. 

“Why would you do that, you fucking idiot?! What the fuck were you even thinking?! How did you-- How--” 

He seemed to lose steam trying to figure out what happened on “Baoshen Sanren’s mountain” and potentially also why Baoshen Sanren’s voice sounded so familiar. 

Zewu Jun’s voice was remarkably calm for a man witnessing-- whatever he made of what he was currently witnessing. He said, “Wei Wuxian, I believe your Sect Leader would like to know how you lost your golden core.” 

Wei Wuxian laughed at that. Because yes and no. 

“No, Zewu Jun,” he said, still laughing. He tried to stop, but it was just too funny. “No,” he said again, slightly more sober, “he wants to know why and how he now has my golden core.” 

He didn’t really mean to say it. He felt drunk again, like he did when Lan Zhan was playing Inquiry. Ready to spill all his secrets at only the slightest provocation. Zewu Jun could probably ask him just about anything right now -- Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng too, for that matter -- and he would answer it. It wasn’t exactly a safe mindset to be in. But he couldn’t really do anything about that now. 

At least there was some kind of privacy barrier over the tent. 

Zewu Jun stood. Speechless. 

Lan Zhan’s tears fell silently. 

Jiang Cheng glared, hands clutched tight against his lower dantian -- whether to hold something inside or to tear it out, Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure. 

Wei Wuxian felt light as a feather. Drunk and dizzy with it. A weight had been lifted, he supposed, but one he was never supposed to let go. His laughter died down to the occasional press of his lungs. Tears collected in his eyelashes until everything was blurry. 

Emptiness yawned inside him, but it was gentler somehow. As if the secret itself had been clawing away at his slowly healing wounds. 

“Fuck,” he said with a hiccup of a laugh. And again, quieter, “Fuck.”

He really should have left the fucking tent. 

Also, wait. Was he dead?! 

#wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #lan xichen #inquiry.mp3 #mdzs #the untamed #cql #fanfiction #my writing #inquiring minds #hey look i wrote a thing! #i actually finished a draft of something! #now if only i can aim this energy toward projects that other people actually care about...........

[krysissy]

Daily reminder for the sonadow fans that this is a thing.

I didn't even got to say nothing. It explains itself, the month of Tanabata? The seperation of two lovers? The moon and it's shadow? That's romantic as fuck ngl. They are symbolizing that Shadow is this astronomical show that is Sonic's favourite. And I think I might as well explode. I actually can't believe that the Sonic Channel actually WROTE this.

THIS IS SAID PICTURE. HE'S NOT LOOKING BUT GAZING (yes they specifically used gazing and not looking which adds more to the romantic flavour 💀) AT THE MOON WHICH IN THIS STORY IS SYMBOLIZING SONIC.

Oh my god it's reciprocated.

"When explaining the relationship between Sonic and Shadow in the bottom description after the story, the title of the section is called: "A rare relationship that can enter one's heart." (In Japanese: 懐に入って来られる稀有（けう）な関係) The meaning of this phrase in Japanese is to describe a relationship that is rare and special that goes beyond superficial interactions and instead, reaches a deep emotional level between the two parties. In Japanese, the term "懐" (futoko) refers to the heart or inner most feelings of a person. It represents a sense of trust and intimacy. Along with this, the word "懐" can also be used to describe a pocket used when wearing kimonos that holds important valuables such as wallets or other important artifacts. When using this phrase, it can literally mean that someone is entering someone's heart/pocket where important artifacts go. The phrase indicates that someone is entering someone's heart, which can also indicate someone saying that they like a person because they are letting them enter the deepest and more intimate parts of their heart. In this case, it would mean that Sonic is entering Shadow's heart since later in the description while using the same term "懐," it mentions how Sonic is the only one that can say something that enters Shadow's heart.

(In Japanese: 実際、シャドウにここまで懐深く入って何かを言えて、それが心に届く（届かないことも多いですが）のは、ソニックくらいではないでしょうか。) This indicates that Shadow likes Sonic in a special and rare way that is on an intimate, trusting and deep emotional level since he at times allows Sonic to enter his heart. It also tells how Shadow sees his relationship with Sonic as rare and special on a deep emotional level that is not superficial and that he cares about him despite his Tsundere personality. This can further be seen in the Sonic Pic image of Shadow looking at the moon (Sonic) with fondness that was released later. [The phrase using this term "懐" is not used in any other description of relationship from the 2021 calendar stories, including his friends: Tails, Knuckles and Amy Rose.]"

Holy shit there's no way they actually wrote all that. They trust each other on a deep, emotional, intimate level. And I think I might just die.

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sth #sonic #sonadow #sonic channel

[sporadicthingcollection]

Smash or Pass: Part 3/4 (LA!Buggy the Clown x Reader)

Summary: It's the last stop before the Grand Line and you slink away for a quiet evening. The universe, however, decides to clown on you. Sequel to Kiss, Marry, Kill. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit! 🌶 Warnings: PiV sex, improper use of Devil Fruit powers. Word Count: ~2.9k.

A/N: 🗣️ 🗣️ HARLEQUIN FORNICATORS COME AQUIRE THY FRUIT-DERIVED LIQUID 🗣️ 🗣️

---

PART 3: In which an understanding is reached, a Devil Fruit is misused, and a promise is kept.

Buggy springs upwards and throws his arms around you, pulling you atop him. He kisses you like a man dying, quick and desperate and full of little whispers. Curses and prayers and your own name all in the same breath, dancing around your tongues.

What choice do you have but to kiss back? You breathe when you can, but he must be hellbent on asphyxiating you, because he allows barely a moment to pass before pulling you back in.

You love it.

You finally put a hand on his chest and force him down as you pull away. He whines like a kicked puppy, eyes just as big.

“Holy shit, are you desperate,” you utter.

Buggy stares at you with those pleading eyes. Wide, shining, rolling rivers. “Join my crew,” he says.

You almost sober up right then and there. He tries to pull you back down and you have to hold yourself back with both hands. “You're still on that?”

"How could I not be?" He says it like it’s a casual good morning greeting.

What's with this guy? “You barely know me! I cut your tongue out, I humiliated you, I said mean shit about your—!”

He yanks you back into kissing him, but a hand goes to your ass this time. Squeezing, groping, stroking. “Knew I wanted you -- the moment -- I saw you -- under the spotlight.”

It’s really hard not to kiss back and you are a weak, weak woman. “You tried -- to kill me -- and my friends -- right before -- and right after.”

He pulls away to kiss your jaw, your cheek, all the way up to your ear. “We were all young and stupid then.”

“That was two weeks ago.”

“Exactly.” He pulls you flush against him before returning to your mouth. What a nice fat tongue he’s got. “Been thinking about you every day since.”

Well, that’s something you have in common. “Thinking about what?”

“Your laugh, your eyes, your lips...” His cock pokes you in the thighs. He moans, long and low, and presses his mouth to your ear. “Your cunt that I just know is dripping.”

Well, it wasn't before, but it is now. Time to give up the ghost. “Been thinking about you too.”

He's the one to pull away this time, eyes wide. “Really?”

You nod. "Remember what you said to me at Arlong Park?"

“I say a lot of things. I like the sound of my own voice.”

You remember. It echoes in your ears in the daytime and haunts your dreams all through the night. It lodges itself between your legs and burrows upwards, pulse by pulse, stroke by stroke, until it erupts from your mouth and finally grants you sweet relief.

It makes you shudder even now. “You said if I joined your crew…” You press your lips to his ear. “You’d screw me to the wall every night and eat my cunt like a wild dog every morning.”

His breath quickens. He swallows. The corner of his mouth twitches up. "One of my more inspired turns of phrase."

“Oh, absolutely." You grin wickedly. “But I understand if you just liked the sound of your own voice. You probably can’t do it.”

Hook baited. Let’s see if he bites.

A low, low growl leaves his throat. The next thing you know, the world is spinning. A pair of strong arms lift you up and off the bed — just arms. No hands. They pin you to the wall.

You shriek in surprise, only for a forearm to clap over your mouth. The other slides up the hem of your shirt and yanks it up and over your head, blinding you.

“Can’t do it, huh?” You hear the jangle of a belt buckle, the buzz of a zipper, and the thud of trousers hitting the floor. “The hell I can’t!”

The shirt finally pops off your head, and you—

Oh. Hello.

Buggy’s naked.

He’s got his back to you as he puts his hair up into a ponytail with disembodied hands. And what a back it is. Broad. Smooth. Muscle ripples with every movement, no matter how slight.

He bends down and dear sweet lord, what an ass. You’ve seen a lot of asses in your day and this one is damn good. You want to dig your nails into it. Slap it. Feel it jiggle. Grip it tight.

Your own hands go to your waistband. You’ve never gotten that zipper down faster.

“You’re gonna eat those words,” he spits. His hands dig around in his trouser pockets.

You don’t hear him. You’re too preoccupied with getting your bra off without seeing the hooks and trying to use telepathy to get him to just turn around already.

He straightens up and surveys the floor, his back still to you. "Oh, where the hell...?"

Fuck’s sake. You slip your panties off and snap the elastic at him. “Buggy!” you bark. 

They hit his back and he turns at the waist to glower at you. You can barely make out the tangle on his pubic mound. “What— oh.” His eyes sweep up and down your body like the spotlights he craves. His mouth drops open. “Oh.”

You’re flattered. You really are. “Will you just get over here and screw me already?!”

Finally, finally, finally he turns around.

You’ve seen longer at full mast. In fact, it might be on the shorter side. But… could you even make a fist around that thing? And the flare of the head… There’s a non-zero chance it might not fit. Oh boy.

Bright red blooms across his cheeks and his throat bobs as he swallows. His wayward limbs reattach themselves — hands to arms, arms to shoulders — but he holds them stiffly. “You’re…”

“I'm hot shit, I know.” His cock bobs and your pussy twitches. You notice the little foil packet in his hands. “Wait, you’re gonna get that over that?”

He stares a moment longer, then gives a little shake. “Unless you wanna go without?”

That sounds amazing, actually. Been awhile since you got done raw. But not even you are crazy enough to risk that.

Unless you are. Are you? No, not today. You shake your head.

He grabs a corner with his teeth and rips it open. You watch as he rolls the rubber down his cock. Or tries to, anyways. He tries the wrong side first and has to turn it around, but he does get it on. Barely. It looks tight.

“Might need to go up a size,” you mutter.

He flushes a brilliant red, but doesn’t say anything as he approaches you. His cock quivers with every step like it can barely support its own weight.

He swallows. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked nervous. He touches your breast, dragging his fingertips along the dip, across your areola, and along the curve of the bottom. “God damn.”

Again. You’re flattered. But there’s more important business to deal with. “Buggy,” you say firmly, “either quit talking and fuck me like a man or don’t fuck me at all.”

Something seems to click. His gaze hardens and he closes the distance between you. He presses his hard, lean body against yours, resting his hands on your hips. He peers down at you.

“You sure you want this? With me?” he murmurs.

God fucking dammit. “Are you a virgin or something?” you spit.

He has the gall to look offended while you stand there unfucked. “No!”

You sling your leg up, grab his hand, and place it under your knee. “Then. Fuck. Me.”

Buggy swallows. He lifts your leg higher and grabs his cock. He lines himself up and, with a nod from you, takes the plunge.

You gasp as he pushes into you. Fuck, this is gonna be a helluva squeeze. You’re lucky you’re already wet.

He chokes. It almost sounds like a sob. “Oh, that’s tight…”

You want to protest. You’re not tight, he’s just packing. But you think better of it. “Thrust,” you hiss.

His voice quivers. “I don’t think I can.”

“Just do it.”

He swallows. His cock moves inside you, up and down and up and down. You hiccup with every push and hiss with every pull, but it gets easier as your slick coats your insides.

Buggy has no such relief. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and whimpers with every movement, breathing like a weight crushes his chest.

You feel a bit of sympathy for him until you look down. He’s not thrusting his hips at all. This motherfucker detached his cock from the rest of him.

He sees you looking and gives you a weak, brows-knit, lips-pursed smile. “Perks of being a Chop-Chop man,” he rasps.

A knock on the door makes you both freeze.

“Everything alright in there?” the matron calls. “If he’s dead, I’ll help you move him.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth, but he presses his finger to your lips. “Shh.”

He detaches himself at the waist, taking his head and his free hand with it. His hips remain against yours, and his cock still stretches you wide.

You watch in shock as he floats his torso over to the door. He opens it just a crack. “Alive and kicking, thanks. How’re you on this fine evening?”

You have no idea how he can make pleasantries with someone while buried up to his balls inside you. You certainly couldn’t. You know what? Fuck him. You squeeze your walls tight.

His breath hitches, but he keeps talking. Slowly but surely, he wins over the matron. You understand how he has as big of a crew as he does. Man’s got a weird charisma that just turns on and off like a lightbulb. You’re kinda jealous.

“She’s sleeping right now. She’s had a rough day. I’ll keep an eye on her. No, of course. Really? I appreciate it. Thank you. Good night, ma’am.”

He closes the door and draws the lock. He turns to you. That charisma is still switched on and it shows. Despite his current lack of legs, he still manages to saunter towards you.

“Trying to make me break character, huh?” His cock slams into you and your tailbone slams the wall and it all makes you gasp. "Cute."

“I don’t like being ignored,” you huff. “Where’d you get the confidence from?”

He gives a smug smile. “All part of the act, baby.“

You liked the other Buggy better than this asshole. You clench tight around his cock.

He chokes and sputters, eyes going wide. He opens his mouth again and you squeeze again and again he chokes on his words. A whimper escapes him this time, but he shakes it off. “Stop that!”

“Then get over here!”

Buggy scowls. It’s a good look on him. He reattaches himself to his waist and slams his palm against the wall right next to your ear. “You're a real bitch, you know that?”

You drape your arms around his broad shoulders. “Damn right."

He grins. He dives for your mouth as his cock reattaches, and he thrusts his hips in a steady rhythm. Nipping, sucking, licking. Any sense at all goes right out the window. All you can think about is how good it feels to be full.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck. His breath is hot on your skin, all raspy huffs and wordless moans. His moans trickle so sweetly into your ear, like grenadine syrup between the ice cubes of a cocktail.

Something wet wiggles in between your bellies and slides down, down to right above where his body joins with yours. It swirls your clit and you damn near scream.

His hand flies to your mouth, pressing a finger to your lips, before pulling you into yet another kiss. You part his lips with your tongue, ready to dance, but…

…nothing. There's nothing there.

You pull away so hard you whack your head on the wall. “What the—?!“

He slams his mouth into yours to shut you up. Still nothing in there. He kisses you again and again until the urge to scream subsides. The urge to swear does not.

You hiss through gritted teeth. “What the fuck?”

He opens his mouth wide. Teeth the color of old ivory glisten in the light, but no tongue. He leans back slightly. A slab of pink flesh waggles against your clit, making you buck. You look back up at him. He winks that little wink of his.

Perks of being a Chop Chop man indeed.

You wrap your arms around his neck. You throw your leg up around his hip and he grabs it. You hook your other leg up and he grabs that one as well. He lays his forehead against yours, gazing right into your soul.

You gaze back. His grip is a little shaky, but you doubt he'll drop you. “Ready?”

Buggy nods curtly. With a snap of his hips, he makes good on his promise.

You’ve never been fucked like this. Screwed to the wall, stretched to bursting, swirled to oblivion, kissed into silence. You wonder if you died in that brawl and went right to hell, punished by being fucked by the object of your lust for the rest of eternity.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d be okay with that. No more getting up early. No more worrying about bounty hunters. No more gazing at the ocean and wondering how you went so wrong in your life that you had to jump aboard a kid's pirate ship just to get away from it all.

All that exists are you and the Devil himself, tempting you to sin with a harlequin’s smile, a silver tongue dancing a tango on your clit, and a cock so thick you feel like you’re being split in half. Any of those alone, you could make do with, but all together? You're doomed.

Speaking of which, you’re close. So very close. You say as much to Buggy, who nods.

With one last swirl, he recalls his tongue back to his mouth with a slurping noise you’re not sure turns you on or off. “Knew you were gonna taste good,” he moans.

You decide it's a turn on. “C’mere."

He leans in, only to yip when you latch onto his neck. He moans your name as you suck, bucking harder with every lap of your tongue and every nip of your teeth.

You only pull away to moan his name. “Buggy…”

The thrusting continues. “Say it again.”

Who are you to deny that? “Buggy,” you purr.

He moans your name again. He presses his lips to your ear and repeats it like a chant with every thrust.

You’re not sure if it’s his tone or the way his cock stretches you or if there’s just something in the air, but whatever it is, it tips you right over the edge.

You’re no stranger to cumming. You’ve been around the block. On your own, with a partner, with tools, without, all of it.

Not a damn thing has ever rocked you the way this climax does. It drags you to the top of a cliff, dangles you over the edge, then hurls you down. You hit every bump and briar and boulder along the way, bringing tears to your eyes and making you scream with every pulse.

But you can’t twitch your cunt closed around a cock this thick. You just twitch and throb and moan until he’s driven wild.

Which he is in very short order. He loses his mind, buried deep inside you, stuttering in his rhythm.

"Gonna... Gonna make you a queen," he whimpers. He thrusts up and up, hard, erratic, so close, so very, very close. "Gonna be mine. All mine. Mine mine mine—!"

One final twitch and Buggy comes undone. He whines into your neck as he pops like a cork, nails digging into your hips.

God alive, you wish he wasn’t rubbered up. You want to feel hot, thick seed painting your insides, filling you up so full that it drips down your leg like syrup when he pulls out.

But alas.

You go limp. He goes limp. Like a pair of stringless puppets, you flop onto the bed. It creaks mightily and you worry it might break, but it holds.

You lay there against him, panting. The orgasm sobered you up a bit, and you come to terms with the fact that you might be kind of a slut.

You're ready to scramble away when his arm slips under your neck and the other wraps around your waist. Buggy pulls you in tight and curls up, holding you tight against him, shivering like a man pulled from ice water.

“You okay?” He whimpers like a dog, burying his face in your hair. You try to crane your neck to look at him. “You don’t sound okay.”

A few moments pass. The whimpers stop and he grows still. Cold hits your back as he releases you. You hear the squelch of semen in rubber and the snap of a knot being tied.

“Sorry," he mumbles. "Big one.”

You can’t help yourself. “Been awhile?”

“Shut up.” He flops back onto the bed and wraps back around you. He inhales deeply, then lets out a groan. “Can't feel my legs.”

And now’s your chance. Bail. Run. Get the hell outta Dodge while he’s in a post-coital haze.

But he’s so warm and you're so comfy and he smells so nice. Like sea air and fancy lipstick. Exhaustion swamps you like a rogue wave. You can’t bear to move a muscle.

"That's supposed to be my line," you say.

He replies with a weak giggle and pulls you in closer.

Heavy, lazy silence fills the room, resting atop you like a warm, thick blanket on a winter morning. You never want this moment to end. Nothing else in the world except you, this bed, and the man curled around you. You suppose the least you can do is keep him company through the night.

You try to sit up to grab the edge of the sheet, but his grip tightens. He mumbles something as a hand wriggles out from underneath you. It grabs the sheet and pulls it over the both of you, tucking the edges beneath your body before returning to its rightful place.

Snug as a bug in a rug, you think. A snug bug rug. Well, two bugs. You and him. Snugs as two bugs in a rugs. Or one you and one Buggy. Snuggy Buggy in a ruggy...

Your half-asleep musings are interrupted by a whisper in your ear. “Did you mean what you said?”

“‘Bout what?”

“About joining my crew.”

He’s still on that? Poor guy. You spare him a pitying smile. “‘Fraid so.”

You hear him swallow. He pulls you in tight against him, burying his face in your hair. He murmurs words you don’t quite catch. Sweet little nothings against your scalp.

Your body fits so nicely against his. His belly presses against your back with every breath. He’s so very warm. And comfortable.

You drift off to the best sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

---

Part the Last goes up Saturday!

⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #kiss marry kill #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #fan fiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes #smash or pass #the curious courtship of buggy the clown

[thatdeadaquarius]

About language brainrot. Imagine writer creator reader who finally learns how to write in Teyvat's weird symbols and they want to publish their book. They decided to do it anonymously to avoid the "aaaaaah our creator wrote the holy scripture" sort of situation. Except it didn't work. The reader's style is too different from the rest of the world, so even if they tried to simulate the flowery speech it wasn't effective.

Another thing. Reader who decided to read some local books to practice their reading. They asked for something simple and similar to their speech. But the only books merely similar to it are 2000 and more years old. It's funny how the older text is the more you can understand it. On this note. If reader write something i feel like it would be hard to understand for Teyvat's people.

Imagine a reader who is autistic or has any other NDs imparing their communication skills. They practically trained themselves to say sertain phrases in sertain situation. But it doesn't work in Teyvat. And everything just stacks at each other. Difference in speech, being a God (so people react weirdly to you), bad communication skills, not understanding nonverbal cues and so on. There's gonna be a lot of misunderstanding. I imagine how followers would walk on the eggshells not to upset and angry their God and reader who does the same not to say something people will get wrong. Again.

Reader who regained all their memories of creating Teyvat, they're super powerful and stuff. But they still struggle with the modern language. Because all the memories are like millions years old.

✨️NEXYLAZA UR SO FUCKING SMART AND CREATIVE✨️ UR BRAIN>>>>>> EVERYTHING

GIF Akashi (black hair) is all the people who read the Sagau/Isekai Genshin tag and Bokuto (silver) is STILL ME RANTING ABOUT LANGUAGE IN TEYVAT LMAO

They cant escape me, sorry people who just wanted to read SAGAU normal things, im filling up the tag💀

I HAD OTHER ASKS BEFORE THIS ONE AND AS I GOT THRU EM I WAS "OMMGGGG WE'RE GETTIN CLOSER TO NEXY'SSSS ASSSKKKK EEEEEEE"

YOU ARE A GODDAMN GENIUS

DHALALWKDHDHS

ME ABOUT THIS ASK:

(^ lol biblically accurate deadaquarius)

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGINNNN

BRAINROTTING OVER UR ENTIRE ASK!!

♡

Also, its getting kinda old now, so here is the blunt language v. Teyvat's flowery language post for reference! :)

Hhhhhhhhhhh

IF U WRITE STUFF

AND UR IN WORDY TEYVAT LAND

AINT NO WAY,👏

U COULD EVEN, 👏👏

GET CLOSE👏👏👏

TO THESE BITCHES SPEECH👏👏👏👏

◇

Like,, imagine right now if i told you to write me 4 pages of an essay in entirely early 18th century vernacular.

(For reference: when the story Pride & Prejudice takes place)

... like??

Bitch aint no way u can do that and actually show that to a historian or an actual living person from that time period

and them actually say "wow! An excellently worded 18th century essay!"

💀.

◇

So tying into that whole, "the only simple texts are like literal cunnieform clay tablets or sm shit"

Your writing to them just sounds like if a scribe just copied off what one of those tablets said just onto paper HAHA

And like, if u try and dress it up, it just ends up sounding like its from a slightly later time period

Like if ur casual writing sounds like 1 million years ago, u being flowery sounds like 8-7 thousand years ago u cant win LMAO

◇

Omg ur trying to go to that-

wait whats it called,,fuck i dont know Sumeru good enough yet

The.. HOUSE OF DAENA GOT IT

Yeah so ur thinking "Oh what better way to learn a dialect?/vernacular than reading books by them!"

And u basically snatch Alhaitham at the soonest possible chance to take you there

(Bc when i went in, it was just random lore books everywhere so)

Needless to say you have no clue how this place is organized, so u convince him to direct you to books u can easily read first

Like as close to your speech as possible!! U tell him :)

.

..

...lol

It literally takes like 3 hours to get something readable LMAO

Bc when the poor feeble scribe initially brought you smth he thought was pretty old and close to ur speech, like just first thought,

... It sounded like it was from the middle of the 18th century to you lol

So, with a "hmm" and a squint at the dusty book you'd already given up on

Alhaitham slowly went around the library making a stack of books, dropped them off in front of you... not a single sentence.

...then he made a stack of scrolls...

..nope..

...a stack of stone tablets...

.....getting closer?? it was really weird seeing Shakespearean language carved into stone....

...and then, with a conversation to a second library secretary deeper in the library, past a caged area of shelves to protect them...

...he escorts you behind the restricted section towards the back filled with glass display cases.

(Several of which contain the most ancient looking sets of artifacts you've ever seen)

...Finally, u arrive at a long glass case of several clay tablets.

Half of which sound like they're from the 1910s-20s, and the other, even older half, sounding straight out of the 2000s..

..

....

......

...Good god.

(Good..you??)

These crazy speaking bastard-previously-video-game-characters were right.

...

You are suddenly, viscerally hit with the image of Zhongli's idle, "Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember, but where are those who share the memory?" 💀

◇

Alhaitham side eyes you,, (he looks,, very interested, yet also kinda concerned??? HIM, CONCERNED????!!!)

"Ahem, the texts before thy Greatest Lord art the eldest- well, perhaps, more appropriately, the eldest and most intact, pieces of written language known to our humankind."

...

....aYOO MAN 😭😭

...Ur just staring at these half cracked, baked clay tablet thingys, full of slang from like 2003-

Alhaitham coughs.

"Uh, thanks. ...Sorry about all the.. trouble with this..."

BRO HOW OLD DOES HE THINK U ARE NOW-

"This task assigned to mine own person was of no trouble to my mind or spirit, Greatest Lord, fret not about it any longer."

And with a sort of shell-shocked atmosphere surrounding both of you, Alhaitham walks off to check out some other restricted books, hovering nearby yet also trying to give u space LOL

Top 10 cursed images: Seeing "Chillax, bro, dude, and weeb" carved into ancient clay tablets that look like they would be part of the Egyptian exhibit back in ur world 💀

◇

You eventually just kind of end up writing a couple pages after studying the writings, going younger and younger (nothing has ever made u feel more powerful...yet also more old..)

You stretch, just as Alhaitham finally has made his own little stack of creaky old books

He seems very curious to read what u wrote, peaking a glance over the top of his book every so often (lol nerd, cute nerd... but NERDDD)

You just offer the academic lunatic what he wants 🙄

"Haha, wanna take a look? Some drafts are... closer than others..."

The scribe immediately puts his book down, not even saving his page,

"I would be honored, Greatest Lord."

Is he excited?? 💀 omfg

U very slowly hand ur most recent practice pages over, he curls his hand under his chin "hmm" ing

...Alhaitham shakes his head

"My..deepest apologizes My Creator, but this still seems, at the earliest, from when papyrus was invented, and not yet even into scrolls..."

OK BUT ALHAITHAM WOULD GENUINELY GIVE NO FUCKS ABT CRITIQING YOU, HE MAY BE MORE POLITE ABT IT BUT EVEN IF U DID MAKE THE WORLD HES GOING FOR IT

KAVEH HAS A HEART ATTACK BC HIS ROOMMATE GOT ONTO GOD LMAO

U let ur head plop on ur pile of papers, srry babe youll never be as fancy as Mr. Darcy 😕

And as ur resting there, contemplating just walking out and finding smth to eat instead- same

Alhaitham picks up another draft.

Except it's your first attempt.

As in, you didn't even try, first attempt.

You just made some bullet point notes or some Bs, in ur regular. modern. language.

Alhaitham knocks his chair over standing up so fast-

(HE GETS SHUSHED BY THE RESTRICTED LIBRARIAN LOL, also another person unafraid to scold God lol)

...he says its a perfect example of the oldest records they've found of writing on the continent, most of which they haven't even translated yet

He asks u to teach him how to read this/speak like this lol

♧

(^^^not my best work but hope yall got smth outta it💀)

I WAS LITERALLY GONNA MAKE A WHOLE POST ON THE NEURODIVERGENT EXPERIENCE OF BEING A GOD IN TEYVAT

ESPECIALLY OF THE LANGUAGE BARRIER VARIETY!!!

THERES JUST

ACK

aCK HDHAKD

SO MUCH

TO SAY

!!!

AHHHHH

OK BUT LIKE

IF WE ACTUALLY TOOK THIS TO THE EXTREME IM IMPLYING IT WOULD BE

LIKE TEYVAT SPEAKS SEVERAL DECADES BEHIND U- MAYBE EVEN ACTUALLY

CLOSE TO PRIDE AND PREJUDICE TIMES SPEECH

THEY WOULD LITERALLY BARELY COMPHREHEND YOU

IMAGINE TRYING TO TALK TO MR. DARCY 😭

THATS LITERALLY ALL OF TEYVAT

JUST

???¿¿?????!!! <- THEM ALL THE TIME

ESP IF UR NEURODIVERGENT

I THINK IT WOULD BE EVEN MORE PROOF FOR THEM TO THINK UR GOD

BC UR BEHAVIOR WOULD BE "OFF" TO THEIR NEUROTYPICAL ASSES,

YOUR FACIAL EXPRESSIONS,

LIKE UR MASKING MAYBE BUT

U CANT KEEP THAT SHIT UP ALL THE TIME-

ESP IN CRAZY ISEKAI CIRCUMSTANCES

AND LIKE-

(ok ill tone it down before i also get shushed)

U used to be a player!!

Which would maybe mean u got rlly comfy playing Genshin all the time!

...like i know im kinda stimming when im gaming (and my natural stim is rocking so yeah no way they wouldnt notice that 💀)

So, since u may be still yknow unconsciously wanting to be comfy (esp around ur mains/team/favs)

U probably have stimmed a little around them, which, not that neurotypicals dont stim, but like

They would notice after awhile

And esp people like Alhaitham, Zhongli, Ningguang, Xiao, Ei, Aether/Lumine, Kaeya, Diluc, Kazuha, Heizou, Shenhe, Kokomi, Sara, Albedo, Dainsleif- !! GASP- !! <- my bbygirl omg i forgot abt u before now im so sorry </3

(once again i have not checked a character list, forgive my sins my readers)

^^^ Are like pretty focused on you/observant, so they'd eventually pick up on it first probably

..

...

....which allsssooo means they're like, collecting all ur neurodivergent thingys lol to compile as EVIDENCE AGAINST YOU AS TO WHY THEY KNOW UR THE CREATOR LMAO

◇

Honestly the biggest factor against u is definitely social interaction,, srry love :/

(if it helps, its bc i know itd be my downfall too thats why thats there ^ 😔)

Mostly bc i have this idea/theory? obervation? that when I especially met Adepti for the first time

Esp ones that werent as close to human society for as long as some others (like think Xiao vs. Ganyu)

And for literally every other non-human people we've met so far in Genshin-

They kinda- they kinda, radiate neurodivergent energy??

Like, they're not adherring to social norms, and not in like a bad way,

But its still rlly obvious (i mean also its probably exaggerated for us as an audience) that theyre not human pretty quickly

coughzhonglicough

COUGHVENTICOUGH-

oh geez wow excuse me, cold weather must be gettin to me- ahem hem-

Anyway, like what Nexy said in the ask,

...

...Yall are all just tiptoing around each other 😭😭

Bc these ppl arent from Earth countries,

All their behavior is weird to you 😭

U dont know how to mask with them yet 😭😭

THE UNBELIEVABLE AMOUNT OF MISCOMMUNICATION THAT HAPPENS ALREADY WHEN UR NEUROSPICY VS. NEUROBLAND PPL

IS LIKE, ALMOST WORSE??

Bc they cant even understand ur phrasing bc its so simple 😭😭😭

◇

Tldr: "Being Neurodivergent means ur a god, confirmed." - says all of Teyvat's denizens

◇

NEXYLAZA.

MY BELOVED.

I AM IN LOVE WITH UR BRAIN.

IF I COULD GIVE IT A HUG I WOULD🫂✨️👏👏👏👏

BC I WAS ALREADY LIKE IN THE BACK OF MY MIND LIKE-

*rubs my little rat gremlin hands together*

"hmHmHMMMM BuT wHaT iF mAYbE yOU reMeMbeREd cReATinG TeyVAT, hmHMHMMMMM"

AND FOR VERBALIZING IT WITHIN BLUNT LANGUAGE AU- !!!!!!!

(one of my favs, if u cant tell)

I would (platonically) kiss you right now dude.

Instead I give this:

♡ ily

And also, I AM GOING TO MAKE A WHOLE POST ABOUT THIS-

MAYBE EVEN A FANFIC, OR ONE SHOT AHDHAKFHSKLAAL-

UNTIL NEXT TIME MY BELOVED PARTNER IN CRIME <333

PSPSPSPSsppspspspssss Last Time! CLOSES TOMORROW @1pm CST: VOTE on my 100+ followers celebration POLL :)

Tell me what u wanna see me write about! PSPSPSPSpspspspssss

(U can vote even if ur new! :] )

THANK YOU FOR SUBMITTING THIS ASK

THIS IS A TREASURE OF MINE NOW

GONNA HIDE IT IN MY LITTLE CAVE OF SCREENSHOTTED SAGAU POSTS <333 hehehehehehehehehehe

THIS IS LIKE PT2 TO MY ORIGINAL LANGUAGE POST AHHHHH

NEXY BIG BRAIN ILYSM <3

Cheers,

🌒🌧🌊Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza lol ur own ask im a menace sorry

#NEXYLAZA NEXT LEVEL #ALWAYS SO EXCITED WHEN I SEE AN ASK OR A REBLOG FROM U #EEEEEEEEEEEEE #BLUNT LANGUAGE VS TEYVATTTT #GOD READER REMEMBERS BEING CREAATTOOORR #IM LOSING IT #ask box open #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin imagines #my asks #gender neutral reader #genshin sagau ideas #please send asks #genshin isekai #genshin god reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin imagines reverse harem #i mean what #genshin lore #i feel like i was vibrating typing all of my response #my favorite russian <3 #perhaps even above childe #LMAO #al haitam x reader #genshin impact imagines #neurodivergent reader #neurodivergent imagines #genshin disability imagines

[shakingparadigm]

What if Luka expects Hyuna to come like she did in his round with Mizi and he is plotting something.He has the trust of aliens,the love of the public and no one would suspect him to do something outside the box,far from the image he created of himself.Hyuna made her appearence in round 5 when we didn't expected it. If the round isn't entirely dedicated to Ivan and Till,this may be an option.He may confront Mizi and Hyuna,they may not be able to rescue Ivan and Till and not make it in time. Luka may not appear at all.

(Me overthinking things: OMG Akugetsu will cover Hyuna's song this must mean something | The other me: OMG I can't wait,this song literally suits him!)

(I like the style of your drawings,the way you use colors and the way you phrase things! When something about ALNST comes out I just wait for your updates! I can't imagine what will happen on tumblr when round 6 is out. And then all of us will wait for the next one over again XD)

Till the end.

TILL... the end...

Ok this is the worst joke I could ever make.

Oohh. Luka appearing in ROUND 6 would honestly be insane. I thought about him making an appearance in the short teaser scene before credits, but if he actually confronted anyone himself that would be so interesting. Imagine all 6 of them in the same episode... the same room... no way... the Alien Stage would be real...

Luka attempting to sabotage Mizi and Hyuna is such an intriguing concept. I do think he's figured out that Hyuna will be returning, he grew up with her, after all. He's most likely aware of her penchant for protecting people. He probably expects Mizi to come back for the only friends she has left, too. He couldn't do anything the first time he saw Hyuna after ROUND 5, but he might be more eager to get his hands on her now. If we get our first adult Hyuna and Luka interaction during ROUND 6 I'd actually go insane. as much as I hope for it though, I'm not sure whether or not it will actually happen. ROUND 6 already has a lot going for it. A final confession of love already makes for a heavy episode, but with Till's newly revealed backstory added to the mix? Mizi and Hyuna's attempt at a jailbreak? The whole video would probably need an entire week to be processed and even comprehended, especially if they want to go into extensive detail on each aspect. Still, though, if Luka interfered... if Mizi and Hyuna were unable to save anyone and had to defeatedly return to the rebellion base carrying the weight of their failure, well, I DON'T THINK I'D BE REACHABLE FOR AT LEAST 10 BUSINESS DAYS I'd have to go into hiding in order to cope with that. But who knows! The fun part about VIVINOS videos is that they're always gonna leave you fucked up in one way or another!

AKUGETSU COVERING ALL-IN. TILL COVERING HYUNA'S SONG. I've posted so many times about this day holy shit its finally real. It really does suit him! Do you think AKUGETSU is

1) hinting that Till is joining the rebellion

or

2) giving us the All-In cover as compensation for whatever bad thing is going to happen to Till

(or a secret third thing: he literally just did it for fun and we've just gone insane.)

Ahh thank you so much for enjoying my stuff! I'm so happy, everyone's been really nice to me as of late and I don't know what to doooo hahaha I'm just really glad to share everyone's excitement for ALIEN STAGE :)

You wait for my updates??!! oh no I'm so sorry 😭 I'm quite late at times because I've had some stuff going on (I've barely said anything about the April Fools actor au 😭) but hopefully I'll be free to go absolutely nuts after the release of ROUND 6 tomorrow!! If you're ever in need of someone to scream about ROUND 6 with my inbox is always open!! Thank you for your kind words!!

Can't wait till I get to hear from you again! :)

#alnst #alien stage #alien stage round 6 #asks

[lxrd-ren]

(Fuck me man did I actually crack it-)

Hmm, what if q!Bad being effected by the soul vultures is inherently a good thing?

I mean looking at the wiki for both the soul vulture and the soul stealing potion, it is pretty fucking powerful. I mean you could theoretically suck the life out of someone and use their soul to better yourself. I feel like q!Bad would 100% use this to his advantage

I've headcannoned how q!Bad has very destructive powers to the point where he can't use them cause he'll hurt and destroy everything. Perhaps this whole soul steal potion is his plan to get powerful enough to destroy the federation without hurting anyone else

I've put some thought into it and I think it makes sense

Obviously he found out about these potions from Dapper. But from what we know (and could see) Dapper only ever made the potions by sacrificing his health to the soul vultures

Me thinks the blue spots on q!Bad is from him consuming the soul potion instead of making it. I mean, we didn't see any spots on Dapper right? Meaning the blue spots has to have come from something else. But the blue is so similar, it HAS to have come from the soul vultures in some way. It being a side effect of drinking the potion me thinks is logical enough, and it makes sense that q!Bad is drinking it as he knows from Dappers notes how powerful it is

It also kinda explains the worker in his basement. Sure q!Bad has questioned it and maybe even tortured it, but q!Bad phrased it as an 'investigation' or 'project'. Surely q!Bad knew the worker wouldn't have much information, so why take it in the first place? Well, I think he'd go to these extremes if he had an ulterior motive. Namely, investigating whether the soul steal potion would effect federation employees aka could q!Bad use it against the federation

AND THE TIMING WORKS. When we saw the worker last, it was caged and locked up in q!Bad's basement. Let's say during that time period, he worked out that the worker is indeed effected by the soul stealing potion. And so, seeing this success, q!Bad starts taking the potion. And look at that, the black patches appear the next fucking day. And not 2 DAYS LATER, the blue spots start appearing.

And nearly everyday since, we've seen him either go back to the basement or the soul vultures, presumably to either make the potions or consume it. Oh and look at that, the blue has gotten worse and worse over time, almost as if he's drinking more and more of it

Motherfucker even said at one point:

"All according to plan."

Plus, I remember seeing one post saying how they don't think q!Bad is torturing the worker but rather experimenting on it like Dapper would experiment on shit. I'd say testing if a soul stealing potion would work on the employee is definitely experimenting on it

But I think we should definitely keep in mind the uh, ahem, other side effects.

Such as q!Bad becoming more violent, more hysteric, less empathetic, aka, losing his humanity, almost as if he's losing his own soul by getting hurt by the soul vultures and instead is regaining souls through the soul vulture potion, but ofcourse the souls aren't the same so bit by bit he's becoming more like one such as looking like one (the blue spots all over him), acting more like one (being more violent), sounding more like one.. (those noises we keep hearing at the end + start of stream)

..just saying we might see some soul vulture wings on q!Bad pretty soon..

(K but holy shit imagine the fanart that would look so fucking cool)

#qsmp #q!bbh #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp bbh #q!dapper #tw: torture #tw: experimentation #tw: kidnapping #qsmp theory

[alessiathepirate]

Far Cry 6

EL CAZADOR Y LA PRESA: Vaas Montenegro x fem!reader

Summary: La Raja Bar - the place where two old acquaintances finally meet again...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

My Spanish isn't the best so if you find a word / phrase used in the wrong context or anything please let me know so I can improve :)

I can't believe I finally finished this piece, I've been working on it for such a long time. I think the Michael Mando brainrot helped a lot.

I hope you'll enjoy this <3

Warnings: swearing, my Spanish, referenced and mentioned violence, heavily suggestive themes, also mentioned and referenced plot of Far Cry 3 and 5

•••

Juan knew many people and he for sure knew his way around them.

He knew when and how to strike a great business deal, and how to get out on top with more intel and money than the other had initially offered.

But more often than not, when he got tired in the workshop, he just went out to have a drink or two - or more, it was almost always more - with an old friend. And he had many old friends. Some even more dangerous than the potentional business partners; many were ex-guerrillas, ex-CIA, ex-KGB, ex-terrorists... The list was endless.

She liked to join him sometimes; sitting down to try and make the stupid businessman talk or sitting down with a beer to listen to Juan and his old pal fool around.

That's what she planned on doing once again, after finishing a run for the man to steal some uranium from the last few remaining anti-aircraft sites. After taking the iron chest back to Zamok Archipiélago, she went straight up north, to La Raja Bar - where she knew she'll find the one and only Juan Cortez.

Arriving there though... a surprise was waiting for her there. A big fucking surprise. Juan wasn't the one sitting at the bar, waiting for her, already drunk. In fact, Juan wasn't anywhere in sight. Instead, she found an old friend there, hunched over with his elbows on the table.

She could still recognize him even after all those fucking years, even if the time had taken its toll on both of them.

And just by knowing who he was, she was sure he was the one Juan had met up with before leaving without telling her not to come.

And thank God he didn't tell her that.

"Holy shit!" she cursed as her lips turned upwards into a smile. "What's the fucking chance?"

The man turned around slowly - much slower than he did in the past -, but the very dangerous kind of calmness was still seen in the way his muscles moved. The look on his face upon realizing who was speaking to him, wasn't really surprised - she had never seen him being surprised at anything -, although it was close to it. She was pretty sure he had been going on with life like she had done, thinking they'd never see each other again. To be completely honest, for a time she believed he died - until she realized nothing could kill him, only himself.

"Long time no see, Jefe."

Vaas grinned and she took a seat right next to him, asking the bartender for two more beers. The old lady just cursed under her breath, but in the end, gave her what she asked for.

She gave one beer to Vaas and then took a sip from the other one.

"Fucking Hell, chica!" he took the bottle from her and gave her one of his signature little chuckles. "I thought the jungle ate you up alive."

"The jungle?" she questioned. "Like it had a fucking chance."

"It had one in the beginning."

They smiled at the other in a very twisted and scary way. The bartender chose to stay far away from them, and decided to mess with the old radio in the corner.

She liked knowing that nothing changed.

It all felt the same; the drinking, the talking, even the fucking looks... Although they had more scars - more than the ones they had given each other back then -, more grey hairs and a more serious drinking problem, it was as if they were back in some part of the Rook Islands, in a shitty bar.

She leand in more, her lips turning into an even wider smile, until it was a grin, and said: "It doesn't have one anymore, Jefe."

She carefully watched as his expression went through different phases. She could see the almost-smile as his lips twitched when she said that last word.

Jefe.

It was easy for her to tame him just by saying that. For some reason he liked to hear that word from her. Only her. She remembered all the times she had been tackled to the ground, rough fingers digging into her skin. It has always been easy to get what she wanted.

"I can fucking see that, chica."

His gaze was upon her knuckles, which were bruised. Small cuts littered her hands.

"Good for you." she said as she took another sip. "Nowadays not many people get to keep their eyes to look at me with."

Vaas chuckled.

"You still got your claws, tigre." his smile turned into a smirk. "No one broke them before, huh?"

"No one other than you." she teased. "Believe me, no one could do it better than you."

"Careful now, chica." his voice was just like hers, it had something to it - some teasing and some danger, just the things she liked. "You still think you can just run that mouth of yours without any consequences, ey?"

"I know I can't." her tone became low. "That's why it's fun."

Silence followed. The unsettling kind.

And then after a smirk, Vaas laughed.

And she felt as if she was on the Rook Islands again, being intentionally teased and angered, Vaas just chuckling at her reactions. But he had loved it more when she escaped. He loved her fight, he loved her nails more - enjoying when they broke his skin, leaving red lines behind. And in return, she got some thin cuts as well, mostly around her collarbone, making it impossible to hide them.

As they sat there, drinking and laughing, she wanted nothing more than to jump on him and leave marks behind again. And she was sure he wanted to do the same.

"So, what are you up to in Yara, chica?" he asked, his voice turning serious as much as it could. "Causing trouble again?"

"Sí, Jefe. Juan seemed to enjoy it so I decided to join in on the fun. Besides," she pulled down the neckline of her shirt so he could see the scar on her chest. "I got tired of Montana pretty quickly."

"Nice tattoo. You got more?"

"Only this one." she let go of her shirt. "You gave me better ones anyway."

"That I did chica."

She felt a chill run through her as he looked at her.

The want, or rather need was undeniable. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. He needed her as much as she needed him.

They've been far away from sanity for a long time, and their shared insanity met them each and every time they chased the other again and again and again... She was never really sane, especially with Vaas around. He made her the person she has become. He made her want him more than she wanted anyone else.

She still remembered the time Vaas gave her the tattoo she knew he was referring too. They went out to hunt - in reality he just wanted to see her face when she hit a living, moving animal; he wanted her to know she was the one who killed it. And she shot - perfectly. She only had to give the doe one more bullet to put it down and as soon as the animal was dead, her chest started to raise and fall quickly. Yet she didn't have time to think, because one of his arms was around her waist, pulling her close. His face was burried in the crook of her neck as he laughed.

"Ahora ya no eres presa, chica." he had said. "Eres la cazadora." and his teeth broke the skin on her neck.

She had asked what it meant, not quite understanding Spanish back then.

Vaas chuckled, but translated it.

"You just became the hunter, chica. You are not prey anymore." his nose touched her ear and her breathing hitched. "Mi pequeña cazadora."

Mi. She knew that meant 'my'. And from the way he acted she knew he liked that idea. He liked it a lot.

And then his fingers grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulled it up and his knife cut into her skin. Droplets of blood ran down her hip, making her jeans red. She whimpered and grabbed onto his arm, trying to get it away, but he wouldn't move.

The letter V he had carved into her that day could still be seen just above her hip. She thought about touching it - like she always did when she was thinking about him -, but held herself back.

He didn't need to know how much she enjoyed the thought of that scar.

She finished her beer. He did too. She thought about asking for another, but since the bartender wasn't anywhere in sight, she decided against it.

She didn't know what to say.

She wanted him and she was sure he felt the same, but after all those years they both became tame. It was actually surprising to not hear him shout orders.

In the end she reached into her pocket to pay for the drinks, but just as she was about to throw the money on the counter, Vaas grabbed her wrist. Out of reflex her other hand was immediatelly on the knife which was attached to the back of her belt. Vaas just grinned.

'Good reflexes, chica.' she could hear his voice in her head.

She raised one of her eyebrows.

"No need for that, cazadora." uncomfortable tingles ran through her at the nickname and at the touch. "The puta won't ask for money. I made sure of that."

She looked at him with excitement.

Her hand let go of her knife and she concentrated on the feeling of him holding onto her wrist, almost crushing the bones.

Cazadora. He remembered, didn't he? Of course he did. He remembers fucking everything. Especially the things he had done in the past.

She knew he made her. In the jungle, in the heat. Every single time she fought him and he cut her, he made sure she'll become something else. Something... loco.

And every time she let him tackle her, cut her, kiss her and bite her, she let him form her into the insane bitch she has become.

Mi pequeña cazadora. She remembered that day in the jungle when they were hunting the doe. She remembered the dull pain when he drew the V into her skin. She remembered his breath on her skin and his grin when she leaned into him, accepting her own insanity next to his.

She felt the need grow in the pit of her stomach as Vaas held onto her.

Perhaps they weren't too old to hunt again.

"You make me fucking crazy Jefe." she said as she dropped the money, letting it fall, the coins rolling far away.

And soon they were on each other. Hands roaming free, teeth biting lips. His thumb found the letter V above her hip and she whined.

She let herself be tackled, she let him break the skin with his teeth.

No matter how different she has become, next to Vaas she didn't want to be a hunter.

Not when it was too enjoyable to be the prey.

#vaas montenegro x reader #vaas montenegro x fem!reader #alessiathepirate #far cry 6 #far cry 3 #far cry x reader

[moldybonessmell]

The Umbrella Academy season 3 review post

I finally finished season 3 of tua even tho I've watched first two seasons first day they came out and oh boy do I have things to talk about-

To begin with, the things I like about new season:

- The way we finally dug into Allison's trauma and how she starts going psychotic is actually a good plot line especially the accent on how she just like any other Umbrella Academy people indulges in self-distructive behavior, she's really just like them

- Diego getting a kid as someone with the biggest daddy issues out there is a realistic plotline because having a kid (even if Stanley's not actually his) heals him in this regard tho he and Lila would get a kid anyway eventually but they really should've been more sad about Stanley thanosing out of the existence you know

- Five being the founder of The Temps Commission makes so much sense as he's the one with the power to travel time of course he's more powerful than it seemed

- Good music scenes. Music is what season 1 was incredible for and what I love about the show. In season 2 there weren't many scenes that caught my attention but in s3 it's definetely better. We got Klaus's death montage with "Crystallised" by The xx and celebration scene with "Another one bites the dust" by Queen + Luther on moon and "Friday I'm in Love" by The Cure these were really nice.

- The Oblivion Hotel is such a cool location and concept (a place for everyone) I like the change of place of action a lot, but the way it's a portal is kinda overused imo

- Lila and Five are still the best characters and carried the season

- Fei is such a cool chara with a distict character design (which most of Sparrow Academy lack tbh)

Now things I don't like:

- Ben being just a placeholder character is such a bummer because instead of getting angst and drama we got a mostly one-dimentional anti-hero who has a completely different personality from Ben. We got a tiny bit of his character when he admitted he just wants to be involved with everyone but it's really minimal.

I can't believe Klaus says "He's an asshole and he's dead to me" like WHAT DO YOU MEAN fuck no Klaus would not say that shit and he would not just give up on him. Yeah Luther says stuff like "I'm glad to see you even if you're different" or whatever but it's Klaus who've spent the most time with Ben.

The way literally any other actor could have played Sparrow Ben and nothing would change is lame af I hope in next season we will see more changes

- Same goes to my dear Grace who's just a placeholder for black hole worshipper like what do you mean we just got one phrase from Diego and that's it??? This whole bit with fake god and stuff really threw me off it didn't go anywhere

- The Sparrow Academy being one-dimentional characters in general like I get producers probably didn't have enough episodes to actually develop characters but holy shit are they boring.

Even if you want to make them just antagonists we had such cool villains in two previous seasons they were original and interesting (aka The powerless podcast-fan male manipulator Peabody and The Cunty Handler)

Also the way the fisrt Sparrows who died were the most annoying and cliche assholes makes them just filler charas

- How show tried to make us feel compassion to Reginald Hargreeves holy shit do I hate this guy- After Klaus realised his father was basically killing him over and over in his childhood instead of Klaus getting mad or upset and having a breakdown we got nothing.

He even came back to new timeline Reginald who's "nicer" for this asshole just to hurt him AGAIN

- Klaus mostly being a comic relief in this season is so fucked I love this character and in previous seasons we had a great look at his life and experiences but now he's just kinda there being high and that's it

"mm I guess he died a few times it's probably enough" - plot writers

no character development whatsoever is just upsetting.

And the amount of unnecessary traumatising aka Reginald training him was really not it, even if it's supposed to be a joke.

- Reginald being a two-faced ass like holy shit is this terrifying. Pogo was the one who gave Sparrows pills and now Klaus helped him to stop taking them and this asshole is taking advantage of naive and vulnerable Klaus.

It is in fact a good plot twist but bro I really did prefer Reginald being a cartoonish villian instead of actual pure evil like how does he have shitty motivation but still does just so much shit.

- The Umbrella Academy family having no improvement in their relationship. They still don't care Klaus relapsed, they still don't care about Viktor. All they care about is their own misery which is really in character but with three seasons out of the way and only one more left I would expect at least something you know.

- Viktor is still left out. Like bro the only compassion he had is only when he transitioned but this is it?? Bro's still waiting till someone comes and cares about him but not only this doesn't happen, he even gets rediculed by Sparrow Ben for that and called emo are you actually kidding me what's with all the hurt with no comfort???

It feels a lot like when you're mentally ill and your family kinda "walks on eggshells" to not trigger you but it's in quotes because they don't actually care. They act nice just because they think you're psycho and you would make less problems if they pretend. And this is very sad, Viktor is such a tragic character.

Okay that's it for now. If you have any thoughts please share in comments!

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua s3 #tua s3 spoilers #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #allison hargreeves #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #the sparrow academy #viktor hargreeves #reginald hargreeves

[thesoftboiledegg]

This was such a great episode! I expected crazy shit to happen, especially with the hyper-realistic video game. I was like, "OK, this entire episode is going to turn out to be a simulation" and was pleasantly surprised when the "hyper-realism" was just a joke.

Anyway, it makes me so happy that Beth is bisexual. I figured she was, but the show never stated it either way. That's four out of five--only Morty is left. And to be honest, I think he's bisexual after his weird, unexplained obsession with Bruce Chutback in season 5, but the episode didn't outright say it.

I loved watching Beth and Space Beth fall for each other and go on dates. And OK, they're the same person, but they've made different choices and had wildly different life experiences. This created some tension and intrigue because they're not just repeating the same words and phrases back to each other like an echo.

Sarah Chalke gave a great performance, too. I'd say this is easily her best performance in the entire show. The dialogue was so natural that it sounded like it came from a live-action drama and not a cartoon. Rick and Morty has always had decent dialogue--and Rick in particular sounds like a real person talking at times--but this was another level of realism.

These new writers definitely know what they're doing. Damn.

I could NOT believe it when Rick said that he's fooled around with other Ricks. Holy shit. I actually paused and rewound the video because I was like "...did he seriously just say that?" It's been part of fandom culture for years, but I NEVER thought it would be in the show. Especially with C-137, who's a notorious Rick killer and hates them almost as much as he hates himself.

This makes me so happy! And it's yet another confirmation that Rick is pansexual. Give it up, homophobic fans, because the evidence just keeps mounting.

And like the other episodes in seasons 5 and 6, "Bethic Twinstinct" shows a new side of Rick--someone who's calmer, more patient and willing to help his family instead of just taking what he wants, then throwing a hissy fit when they get sick of it.

Rick's relationship with Jerry is changing, too. He says that he installed the "pillbug protocol" because he got drunk with Jerry one night (that's pretty big in itself) and installed the protocol because Jerry said that's what he "wanted most in the world." Rick wasn't being an asshole. He actually gave Jerry something that he wanted.

And yeah, Rick could be lying, but I think he's telling the truth this time.

Overall, this episode was a good combination of everything. Beth exploring various aspects of her personality, Rick bonding with Beth and his grandkids, Jerry letting out his frustration instead of being passive. Admittedly, Morty and Summer didn't do much, but they were still fun. I enjoyed the meta jokes about how they've had a million Thanksgivings and don't even know how old they are at this point.

This episode didn't explain those creepy posters where Space Beth appears to be controlling her family, so I'm guessing she'll turn up again--and this time, it might not be so friendly.

Anyway, the one part I disliked was the ending. The implication was "Haha yeah, Jerry's got two hot wives that will fool around in front of him." Normally, I'd call it lowkey sexist, but this episode did have Beth and Space Beth exploring a romantic relationship without Jerry's involvement. Still, I'm not a fan. I guess they're cucking Jerry in there? lmao.

Some might dislike this comparison, but Rick and Morty is starting to remind me of Moral Orel, especially with this episode in particular. Both shows start off as rambunctious comedies but explore more mature and dramatic themes as they go on. Honestly, "Bethic Twinstinct" wasn't that funny, but the character development is a worthy trade-off for me.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #beth smith #jerry smith #bethic twinstinct #review

[the-velvet-worm]

rewatching season 1 (after watching the campaign) is making me finally understand Taliesin’s attitude of “I love Percy so much but I also hate him and he’s an asshole,” bc like!!!! holy shit Percy is fucking tragic. like goddamn you can fit so much trauma in this bad boy. but at the same time he is so selfish and irresponsible sometimes!!!! like the same guy who’s always rolling his eyes at his friends having fun is also running around in a silly little bird mask shooting people whenever a voice in his head tells him to!!!! and yes I know Orthax is not his fault necessarily but like goddamn Percy there are other people in the world besides you!!! I think there’s a reason why I very much prefer Percy’s character arc post-Briarwood arc, because even though he is still selfish and irresponsible at times after it, he’s fuckin trying and that’s more than most can say lol. and although I find the phrasing a bit reductive, Percy is, after everything, still very much a teenage asshole. again, through no fault of his own, his late teens and early 20s are nothing but endless loops of nightmares and horror and he never had a real chance to mature past that. anyway all that to say, Percival de Rolo is a hot fuckin mess and I wouldn’t have it any other way. not to sound like every other bitch and their mother on the internet but goddamn I love flawed characters but mostly I love realistic characters. and Percy is about as close to any shithead traumatized teenager I’ve ever met, and I love him for it and I also hate him (affectionate)

#I am so sorry for this post I just had to get some feelings out for a minute skdjfjsfsjfds #tlovm #the legend of vox machina #percival de rolo #percy de rolo #critical role #critical role spoilers idk #cr1 #vox machina #taliesin jaffe #btw for more unhinged rambles like this pls check out my podcast where I talk about how much I love/hate Percy a lot more #it's called Amateur Hour and you're welcome

[laundrybiscuits]

I've recently been tagged in a few WIP/"last thing you've written" type games, and…to be completely candid, I haven't been writing any kind of fic lately because I've become a little bit obsessed with analyzing the Broadway revival of Merrily We Roll Along.

Not for any particular purpose, I just saw it at the Hudson a little while back and have a lot of feelings about it! In my tiny scraps of spare time, I've been working on an essay about Merrily and inevitability that will probably end up rotting in my google docs*, because that's how I approach writing as a hobby.

There's just so much there, holy shit. I'm focusing particularly on "Franklin Shepard, Inc." because Radcliffe's Charley brings a frenetic, desperate vulnerability to the performance that reads so, so differently from earlier productions. Throughout the show, I was consistently blown away by the heavy lifting Radcliffe, Mendez, and Groff do in shifting the core tension from "art vs commerce" (fine but basic, and difficult to keep modern) to "how people prioritize different types of relationships in their lives."

In an effort to make this slightly less wildly off-topic for this blog: this has gotten me thinking about the way that platonic relationships are treated in narratives, particularly but not exclusively in fandom.

"Found family" is and has always been a popular trope, but I do think its current incarnation trades a lot on the underlying fantasy of relationship permanence. When we recategorize friendships as familial relationships, we're making a claim—whether or not it's justified—about the indelibility of those relationships.

That's not inherently bad (or, god forbid, problematic). I think it's very very natural, especially for those who don't necessarily have a lot of experience with the way adult friendships change over time. Why wouldn't you want something as precious and unique and amazing as a good friendship to stay with you forever?

Certain people can feel like pillars of your world, and it's fucking terrifying to think about that being yanked out from under you—or even worse, to think about your lives slowly shifting like geologic plates until suddenly you realize it's been weeks, then months, then years since you last really talked.

CHARLEY: We're not that kind of close any more, the way we used to be. And a friendship's like a garden. You have to water it and tend it and care about it. And you know what? I want it back.

It's a peculiar, particular kind of grief when it happens, because even though it's a fairly common human experience, it doesn't get socially acknowledged in the same way as e.g. a romantic breakup.

So yeah, it makes a lot of sense that found family is a popular trope in all kinds of media, not just fandom.

However...at this point, I've developed a knee-jerk wariness to the phrase "found family," because I've found it often correlates with a really flat, simplistic depiction of human relationships. In extreme cases, it simply recontextualizes a relationship within the socially acknowledged/acceptable framework of a stereotypical family unit.

This does a disservice to familial and nonfamilial relationships alike. Every family is different, so why do so many found families in media look the same?

(I was monologuing about this to my very patient girlfriend, and she pointed out that this also sets up a success/failure binary condition in relationships, where permanence is the arbiter of success in both romantic and nonromantic contexts. She is of course both beautiful and correct!)

I have friends with whom I can sometimes share a glance and know exactly what they're thinking. I even have a running joke with one friend about the sheer number of times we've said the same thing in unison over the last 15 years. I still need to be intentional about building those relationships, extending empathy when we differ, and carving out time to reconnect. Truly intimate long-term relationships of any kind involve disagreements, conflicting priorities, and negotiating and renegotiating boundaries.

Being "basically the same person" or "sharing a braincell" actually sounds super fucking lonely to me, personally, and it handily elides the difficult, essential process of keeping people in your life.

FRANK: Old friends let you go your own way. CHARLEY: Help you find your own way. MARY: Let you off when you're wrong. F: If you're wrong. C: When you're wrong. M: Right or wrong, the point is, old friends shouldn't care if you're wrong. F: Should, but not for too long. C: What's too long?

That's a more complicated and much more mature narrative to tell than "friendship will save the day!" Because it's not that common and there's not a deep bank of references to draw from, it takes a lot of effort and skill to depict well, and I don't blame creators for not wanting to let it suck up all the air in the room. However, I think it's important to acknowledge that platonic relationships can also be flanderised and flattened.

In the context of fandom, which has always traded heavily in Romance genre conventions, I would really like to see more thoughtful explorations of complicated nonromantic relationships. I'm not even talking about genfic here! I've actually been thinking about Stobin specifically because that relationship (rightly & understandably) tends to show up in any Steve-centric fic, including the vast ocean of Steddie fics, so it makes the issue slightly more visible than I've seen in other fandoms.

I'm not saying I want to see them fight, or not be friends, or not love each other fiercely and near-obsessively in the way that lonely teenagers can. I'm just saying I want them to be distinct individuals who view the world in very different ways, and choose each other anyway. They already have a complicated past; I know from personal experience that it's possible as a lesbian to be best friends with a guy who once made a little speech about how into you he was, but that little layer of history never quite goes away.

I don't want frictionless relationships in my life. I want people who will challenge me and whom I can challenge, in the context of love and trust. I want people in my life whom I have to work to understand, because my life is richer when I do. And sometimes, I want narratives that will reflect the grief of friendships that are no longer part of my life, despite the best efforts of everyone involved.

In Merrily, Charley sings, "Friendship's something you don't really lose—" but Radcliffe's thready, pleading delivery makes it all too clear: Charley already knows he's lying. The audience just needs to catch up.

*Other essays in that particular graveyard: understanding the cast of Peanuts through the lens of anomie, humor and subversive linguistic nationalism in 00s Singaporean TV, how to fix Miss Saigon. WHY am I this way.

#side note: how fucking good was Radcliffe in that role? what a glow-up from HTSIBWRT #all the casting was brilliant but (Tony winner!) Mendez and (Tony nominated) Groff were less of a dark horse #anyway I think...I might start to get a little less rigid about letting myself dump nonfandom or fandom-adjacent posts here #we'll see if I have more time to post and/or write once this busy period at work dies down #recently is a relative term btw. I have been tagged more recently than the cambrian explosion. so that counts. #I appreciate the tags and it's very nice of y'all to think of me though!

[stevenose]

blush

hiiiii i wrote this lil thing for @moodring-eyes for their support 💖 ily ang 💖💖

summary: steve can’t figure out why his bedsheets always smell like sex til he gets sent home early from work.

contains: perv!reader, reader with vagina, reader with boobs, use of the phrase “good girl” for reader, scent kink, masturbation, kind of gross steve/reader, reader touches themself in steve’s bed til they get caught <3

warning: this ain’t proof read on account of author stoned

18+!!! minors dni!!!!

Steve knows something is up, he just can’t figure out what. And after an eight-hour shift at Family Video, he’s not really in the investigative mood. All he knows is that his bedsheets have been smelling like sex when he pointedly has not had sex in weeks.

Not just sex - it smells like cunt. Sweet and unique and unmistakable. And every time he washes them the clean scent only lasts a day or two before the intoxicating scent comes back.

Steve’s first idea: maybe he smells like pussy. A quick sniff test disproves the theory. Steve’s second idea: maybe it’s the mattress. He strips the bedsheets and smells again - there’s something slightly there, but certainly not enough to notice the way he’s been noticing.

It’s absolutely the sheets.

And then, just as he’s trying to understand how on earth this is happening, he notices things in his room moving around. Shirts - underwear - that he knows he’s thrown in the hamper will be laying beside it when he gets home. His shampoo bottle will be in a different place in the shower than he left it in the morning. He’s not really freaked about any of this, just confused. No explanation makes sense. His parents aren’t home enough, nor do they care enough, to come into his room and rifle through his shit. And if his parents are having sex on his bed, then there’s a bigger problem going on.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon. The power goes out at Family Video and won’t come back on. Keith, irritated and irritating, tells Steve to go home early. Elated, he skips out to his car, excited to go home and do absolutely nothing the rest of the day. As he’s walking inside, he’s even thinking about ordering takeout, maybe inviting someone over - what the hell is that noise?

It’s familiar. Steve’s heard a lot of moaning in his life - just the facts. It’s not a moan he’s heard before, but one that makes his heart rate pick up, and he can tell it’s coming from his room. He grabs a heavy decorative paperweight from the coffee table in the living room before moving up the stairs. His bedroom door isn’t even shut. The closer he gets, the louder the moans. He can even smell the same scent from his bedsheets in the hallway. Paperweight in hand, he peaks around the doorframe.

Steve never thought, in his entire life, that he would ever see you naked. Or in his bed. Or with your tiny fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt. Your head’s thrown back and neck on display - everything’s on display for him. All pretty and loud on his mattress. It takes him a minute to take it all in, his cock starting to strain in his jeans. His eyes move all around your figure before he sees what’s balled up in your free hand - a pair of his underwear. 

Holy shit. He’s at a loss. He’s always had a thing for you, a fondness, but you would blush if he so much breathed towards you. You seemed scared of him. Always jumpy and nervous but still very adorable and endearing.

It’s like something out of his craziest, pot induced sex fantasies. One that would never involve you. He never took you for someone to break and enter. 

Steve doesn’t even know what to say. For a second he thinks maybe he should give you some privacy. Then he realizes this is his room, his house, his bed. The sight is stunning, but he’s still more confused than anything. He has to say something. 

“Uh.” God, his throat’s dry. 

You gasp and snap your legs shut, throwing your hands over your tits. Steve’s cock kicks again. You’re so fucked out. He can smell you.

“Steve,” you pant, bolting upright. You’re clearly horrified. Steve would be, too. “You. Work?”

“Lights shut off.” He doesn’t know what else to say. “Um. What- what’s goin’ on?”

You’re near tears, face red from being caught. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t - you weren’t supposed to….”

Steve really wishes he was mad. Like a normal person. But he’d be such a liar if he said this didn’t turn him on. Someone wanting him so badly that they’d sneak into his room and use his dirty clothes to get off - then acting normal during shifts together. Like you weren’t a pervert. Like you didn’t get off to the scent of him. Like you weren’t fucking yourself silly on his bed and wishing it was him while he was slaving away at work. It almost wasn't fair. 

“You could’ve said something,” he says, stepping into the room. He shuts the door behind him. He’s not sure that he can keep his hands to himself and at least he has the decency to shut people out. 

“Like what?” you whisper. You’re still covering yourself up. 

Steve stares at you for a moment, crossing his arms against his chest. He sees your thighs press together - you’re still trying to get off? It ignites something in Steve, one of those feelings that makes him feel like he’s going to catch on fire. “Are you still trying to get off? Even after I caught you? Like you’re not a perv?”

“I’m not.” You sound so confident in it - like you’ve convinced yourself that what you’ve been doing isn’t weird. “Look - I’ll leave, and we never, ever have to talk about this aga-”

Steve’s going for it. “You think you can get off that easy? After you’ve soaked my sheets with your cum for a month? We have a lot to talk about, actually. How about you show me what’s in your hand?”

Your eyes get wide. He loves it, loves watching you shift in embarrassment. “They’re my underwear,” you say, clutching them harder. But Steve can see your underwear on the floor beside his bed. Your eyes follow his, and he watches you blush harder. 

“Show me.”

You drop his briefs from your hand with a slight groan of humiliation. Steve’s dick aches.

He licks his lips. “What were you doing with those?”

It’s funny how irritated you’re getting. “You know what,” you hiss, shifting uncomfortably. “Just let me get dressed.”

“No.” Steve moves to sit on the bed in front of you. You try to cover yourself up more and he scoffs. “What are you hiding for? Bet you wanted to get caught. Wanted me to catch you fucking yourself in my bed. Is that why you left the door open?”

“Was a mistake.” Your voice sounds thick, your eyes getting wet again. Steve feels bad, the way the tears make him crave you.

“A mistake? Did you get too excited? Couldn’t even take a minute to lock the door?”

“Steve,” you plead.

His eyes soften a bit. “I want to see you,” he says. “I want to see exactly what you’ve been doin’ on my bed.”

Your brows crease, unable to understand. “What?”

“Show me,” he repeats. “Not gonna leave me guessing now, are ya?”

You exhale shakily. Steve drinks it in. Drinks in your skin when you move your arms away from your breasts, exposing yourself to him. Beautiful. And when you lay back hesitantly and open your legs, Steve sighs loudly. You’re so wet. Soaked all the way down to mid-thigh. He can see a stain under you and he groans at the thought of this mess you’ve been leaving him. Your pussy’s so pretty and smells so sweet and he’s determined to taste every inch of it once he’s done indulging himself.

“You’re beautiful,” he finally says. “Really. Just wish you would’ve been a good girl and asked me first.”

“You… you would’ve said no,” you assert.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

You blush at the implication.

“You gonna gonna show me or what?”

Glaring slightly, you reach down to touch yourself, running two fingers up your folds. As they part, Steve can see how ruined your cunt is. It was clear you’d been fucking yourself for a while before he found you. He groans and watches you slip your fingers inside of you, watches your eyes roll back and chest heave. He’d love filling you up, whether it’s with his fingers or tongue or cock. He wonders if you can even take him. Might have to work you open nice and slow and God, he really doesn’t want to work slow. His patience is running thin and he’s about to explode in his Levis.

“Have you only been using two? My cock’s bigger than that.”

“I know,” you moan. “Can see you through your jeans.”

“Jesus,” he whispers. “Starin’ at my cock at work, huh? That why you’re always blushing around me? Thinking about getting stretched out on my dick? Answer me.”

“Yes!” you wail, fucking into yourself harder.

Steve wants to taste you so badly. Finally get a taste of what’s been haunting him. Your fingers are slick as they pump in and out of you, your clit neglected and puffy. He runs a hand through his hair instead of reaching out for you. But you whine, frowning as you look at him through thick lashes, and it gains his attention. Your fingers slow and you instead grind down on them as you whimper, “Steve.”

His heart melts a bit at your tone. “What? Gettin’ shy on me?”

You take a breath. “Can’t - can’t you just t-touch me?”

“Shit,” he groans, finally moving to straddle your hips. His hands fly down to his zipper and he frees himself just enough to get some friction when he leans down to kiss you, hot and furious. His teeth bite into your bottom lip and he curls a hand into your hair to bring you closer. “Fuck,” he rasps, pulling half an inch away from your lips. “Little slut. Want me so bad? How about you taste me instead of my underwear this time?”

“Steve,” you whine, finally reaching for your clit. You stick your tongue out and Steve almost comes over it. But he takes a deep breath and looks at the headboard while he strips himself the entire way, climbing back over you and resting the pink tip of his cock on your tongue.

“C’mon, baby,” he coos, feeding himself inside of your mouth. “Let’s give your filthy tongue what it wants.”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader

[raguna-blade]

having had my day devoured by the newest hbomberguy vid (been a short day, it happens) i think the thing most impressive going on here vid wise is the degree of build up that goes on here.

like yes, fuck james sommerton, it's real hard to imagine that you accidentally duped shit that many times for that long, but we get it, fuck him and the other guys.

no what i found real interesting is the way the whole essay was constructed really really did spend an almost excessive amount of time building up the foundation of how the youtube plagiarism and such goes on, coming from pretty basic baby shit that none the less required a bit of effort to do (the game reviewer dude) to a more complicated but still effort requiring bit with illuminaughti and the cinemassacre stuff, to even MORE effort being required (until you found it admittedly) with the internet historian who, at the very least, seemed to be just the one time unless I glitched out and missed other stuff.

Like way back with the game review he goes ok but this is actually a really transparent attempt at dealing with the fallout of being caught doing this, it's just actually a bad misdirect but because it is we can see how this actually works so when we see more experienced and better people do it, it'll be easier to see.

And that was true, like it came up frequently throughout the video.

But this was a tremendous amount of careful, pretty considered build up going on here, and you would expect, especially given the length of the video and the section focusing on him, that what you were going to get when we got the Sommerton, was some REAL bullshit, like some grade A "Damn I hate to see it but fuck if they didn't plagiarise but good and here's how and what"

That'd be the thrust right? That's generally how you build up the stakes, the final point is usually where it's going to be the most complicated and detailed, where you'd need the level of build up and experience established (such as you can in a video, even a long 2 hour set up being what it is) so that you can see all the techniques and tricks and shit and it's just....

Holy Fuck. I'm not gonna make light of how he got away with what he did, because lord knows i would have fell for it trivially (even with vids that DO actually give bibliographies i don't usually do the reading I just kinda trust that it's fine. It's something to work on I suppose especially in light of this) but the absolute level of laziness here is something fucking WILD to see on display.

Like i'm stealing the last bit from @cryptotheism post here

But genuinely how the actual FUCK do you read that much, or hell even just SCAN that much for a given subject and not have even a mental shorthand of how you wanna phrase the same information? Like not even a condensed version of their points? Just straight up word for word stealing? AND YOU INTERLACE THEM WITH OTHER AUTHORS AT POINTS?

Like this is damn near cartoon levels of sloth going on here. You are working so hard to work so little that you're working harder than it would take for you to actually just do something original at that point. like it's not even the whole goddamn thing in a lot of places, it's parts! You had to understand at LEAST the individual points made there, and understand that they connected to some degree to the other related points, select JUST THOSE RELEVANT BITS, and shove them into the essay but you don't...You don't even change them up enough that a quickie google search would have at least some trouble to find them?

This gets away from the point i was initially going with, i'm kinda doing this off the top of my head fresh off the vid and winding down, but it's wild that for all that he set up in the first half of the vid a bevy of techniques, ways around things to not immediately ding bullshit, how to play off if you DO get caught, and all that and it damn near turns out you didn't fucking need it because dude was basically getting by and raw...whats' the word i'm looking for here. Arrogance? Absolute But Unearned Self Confidence (pretty sure that's arrogance) for what looks like it was damn near fucking amateur hour for how well he actually hid what he was pulling from.

An excellent video, and the breakdown is definitely more complicated than that for all that I feel like i'm underselling it but it's like i was built up ready and trained, primed to see bullshit everywhere, and then i see a series of spike pits with signs in front of them saying where they are but even though it's obvious it's SO MUCH you start second guessing yourself at a point.

#Plagiarism and You(tube) #hbomberguy #do recommend a watch when you have 4 hours of time and a desire to laugh for comedy reasons and horror reasons

[jackietorrance]

Stupid Game!

“Holy shit! What the hell do they want me to do!?"

This was the 17th time you complained about a complicated task in the new action game 'God of War - Ragnarok'.

When Jenna met you, she soon realized her passion for Greek mythology and for the so magnificent god of the Nordic war, on your first date you even mentioned your fanaticism for the franchise. But today was an exaggeration. When the news of the launch came out, you soon bought it in the pre-order, and spent the rest of your time waiting for it. Months and months passed and the moment that you knew that it was released in the PlayStation catalog, you turned on the video game and started your long-awaited journey of accompanying God and his son. The bad thing about this story is that only you knew about your stupid addiction, and why didn't you tell someone about it? You didn't even know, maybe you were afraid of having to abandon your entertainment. Maybe. After all, you don’t know how to deal with it.

But it had already passed dawns, days without sleep, the only time his brain rested being when he fainted from exhaustion. Jenna was really worried about the bag that covered her eyes every time she saw you, but when she confronted you with it, the only thing your girlfriend could receive was a weak smile and the same usual phrase, "I'm fine, when I'm done with the game I swear I'll stay with you the time you want kitty". But this kind smile you had as your brand lasted only for the first 4 times

You understood that you had to maintain a healthy routine for your game in the worst way. Just hurting your family and your girlfriend that you learned to share your time, take care of yourself and think about the feelings of the people you cared about.

“Jenna please listen to me” you approached the door of your shared room leaning your forehead on the cold wood, all your body produced was fear and sadness, you didn't want to have gone that far. Approximately 15 minutes ago Jenna hugged you and asked to you two go to the garden, feel the breeze and the natural aroma of the flowers, something like that. In reality you hadn't paid much attention, after all, you were in the damn game again.

So, you didn't answer, she let you go and repeated the request, you still didn't hear anything at all, and the moment she lost control, you could hear buzzing, enigmatic buzzing that you didn't make a point of deciphering.

But you regretted it the moment you noticed the bang of a knock on the door next to you.

Here you were, begging for your girlfriend's permission so you could try to do something. However, there was nothing you could do, you were wrong in every way. It was you who ignored it when she called her to watch her favorite terror. It was you who was not your award for best actress, when she called you to this special occasion and you neglected what she did for you. Acting like it's nothing

Your option was to compensate Jenna. You had to conquer it again, as in the old days, without any addiction involved.

Your plan started with you asking for a leave of your work, wanting to spend time with Jenna even if she wasn't at home you would be there waiting. Even if she refused to talk to you, you were there for her, regardless of whether she wanted to refuse you, from this day on you would be open to her. You bought flowers and left them at Jenna's bedroom door. You started sleeping on a mattress, without wanting to bother Jenna with your unfortunate presence. Your video game.. it was sent to your little brother Dexter, you knew he had more self-control than you.

After a few days doing the same procedure, she finally sat with you at the table, without any words exchanged, you left Jenna at ease, without wanting to press her to listen to your apologies, you allowed yourself to wait for a sign to start, "Uh, are you okay?" Jenna said breaking the silence, but continuing to look at the food on her plate.

“In fact, I really need to talk to you," you said and raised your face to look at Jenna, straight eyebrows, slightly closed eyes and a certain hesitation on them.

“I don't know if-“ at that moment you couldn't wait any longer, you didn't want to keep looking like a stranger to Jenna. "I really need you, I need to make up for you somehow, I know I shouldn't have stayed that long in that shit. You deserve everything, everything I can offer and everything I can't offer, you deserve someone who gives all this and more, your love, your smile, you are something rare, someone that should be taken care of better than I took care of" you held Jenna's hand, that touch you so much wanted to try again. But you didn't want to make Jenna feel uncomfortable, so you disconnected your fingers quickly, still leaving them on the table.

“I'm really sorry, Jenna, I understand if you want to distance yourself from me, I just need a signal, any sign, if you want, I'll leave, if make you better, I'll leave-“ you started talking faster, nervousness running through every inch of your body. All this eroded your mind.

“It would be a lie if I said you didn't hurt me, the first time you got bitter, I still didn't care, I thought you were just grumpy and I let you have your time. Then I began to feel more harshness in his words, but coldness. And that upset me. Very. You miss the only nights we had together because of this stupid game, not something very cool. But it would be another lie if I said no that I expected you to be better the next day, with the silly smile I fell in love with, I want the girl I love back." Jenna kept looking down, letting tears run down her face, falling down her lap, all she said was an almost inaudible tone, almost. You were standing next to Jenna, the chair facing you. In an impulse of courage, adrenaline running through your blood flow, you extended your two hands around Jenna's cheeks, running from her ears to her jaw, "I love you y/n, I can't live in peace with you ignoring me, I don't want you to hate me." It seemed like she hadn't understood your statement, despite that you didn't mind repeating as many times as necessary, or even saying anything, you weren't that good at words, "the only thing I hate is that I can't make you happy enough, but I don't care about trying, even if it's useless. I love you so much Jen" Jenna closed the space between you, attracting herself to her body as if he were a magnet and she were the rusty metal that still had her attraction.

This kiss was needed from both parts, something that they had not experienced for a long time and that they had longed for, unfortunately one of the bodies had its brain glazed in one thing, and its heart... concentrated on another thing much better.

Maybe people think it's crazy, but we know it's true love. Only I know how much you do me good and how much I want to live the rest of my life by your side.

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega x y/n #i love this #jenna ortega x fem reader